The Way Home
by HeyThereISeeYou
Summary: The past case takes a toll on Reid and after a post-case party at a burger joint, Morgan is there to pick up the pieces. Is waaaaay better than the summary. ReidMorgan fluff ONE-SHOT unless people want me to continue? Lemme know whatcha think!
1. The Way Home

I don't own Criminal Minds... duh. ReidMorgan fluffishness~ This is unbeta'd, so if there are any spelling mistakes or blaring grammatical errors that I didn't catch (even though I'm an English whiz, I, too, overlook things) please let me know. Sorry it's so disjointed... I wrote it for a friend earlier today. ENJOY, LOVES.

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It had been a particularly tough case. The unsub traveled all over the country to kill very specific people, we realized, and had been doing it for years. Women who had married men who had later gone to prison, or had sons that went to juvie, and lived in states without the death penalty. The crime that the male family member committed had to be severe enough that other states would potentially sentence them to death. Her MO was punishing the women as if it was their fault their husband or son committed the crime. Each of the women had a lock of hair missing on the front right side of their head.

The police departments in the counties the murders were in didn't communicate very well, so the details of the information had been lost in transit for the length of time she had been killing. It was all too specific, as if she wanted us to find her, but no one could, so she kept at it until we did.

Her name was Nancy Callin. Thirty-four years old. Found in the back of a small mom-and-pop general store, about to kill the owner whose son had gone to prison for manslaughter. By the time we caught her, we knew she had killed fifteen women. Discovered scrapbook with all the locks of hair from the victims and, disturbingly, quite a few others in the suitcase she used. She went quietly, smiling the entire time. She had done what she set out to do; there was nothing left for her to live for.

That was the most terrifying thing about some unsubs. To devote their lives to something like this and, once caught, felt satisfied enough to not care about dying.

I didn't sleep well on the place ride back to Quantico.

Now we were in a local burger joint, celebrating this latest victory. I wasn't too hungry, still thinking about iher/i, but I saved face and went along with everyone, eating, joking, never once mentioning the case.

"Hey, Pretty Boy, what's up? You look a little sick," Morgan put his hand on my shoulder. I hadn't even realized I had spaced out. We were the last two of the team in the joint, it seemed.

"I-I'm fine," Whispered, because I knew he could tell I wasn't. He stepped aside as I slid out of the booth, following me out of the building and to his car silently, but didn't go to the driver's side. Biting the inside of my cheek, I tried to keep myself under control. Tears skewed my vision, seemingly making the cement roll and twist under my gaze. His hand was on my shoulder again and I gave in, turning and clinging to him as if my life depended on it. My own hands fisted the back of his shirt, face buried in his shoulder, tears staining the collar of his shirt.

"I-I'm s-so-sorry," I hiccupped, pulling away once the wracking sobs had subsided for the most part. "I sho-shouldn't ha-ave…" He was wiping away the tears with a tissue that had come out of nowhere.

"Don't be sorry," An arm slid around my waist and he pulled me back in for a hug, his free hand stroking my hair as the fitful sobs renewed themselves. "Shh, Pretty Boy, it's alright…" he cooed.

I don't know how long we stood by his car, but by the time we pulled away from each other, the joint had long been closed. Sniffing, I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand. "Tha-that was unprofessional…" I started, staring at the ground again, thoroughly embarrassed. Finger under my chin, he tilted my face up to meet his eyes.

"Spencer, seriously, don't worry about it," Mor-Derek kissed my forehead. He hadn't called me that in… I couldn't even remember. "Let's get you back. You wanna stay at my place tonight?" Nodding, I let him go to the other side of the car as I slumped into the passenger seat, utterly exhausted.

He held my hand the whole way home


	2. Bacon and Awkward Silences

Thanks for your wonderful reviews, guys! They have motivated me to do what I have NEVER done before~ A multi-chapter fic! Everything else I've ever written have been drabbles. SO EXCITING. I have a plot worked out and everything. Hopefully I will not disappoint~ I do not beg for reviews, so if you want to write one, awesome! If not, then no biggie. I'll keep writing this until it's done, reviews or not.

Thank you SOSOSOSOSOSO much to my wonderful beta RJ!

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We somehow made it into Derek's apartment; I had fallen asleep at some point and woken up to him shaking my shoulder gently.

"Hey, pretty boy, wake up," he whispered. I blinked my eyes open groggily with a soft groan. My eyes had that strange soreness that only seemed to occur after a long bout of crying and when I went to rub them, my cheeks felt a bit rough from the dried tears. Taking hold of my arm and helping me out of the car, Derek assisted me to the door of the complex, having the night security buzz him in. The security woman raised an eyebrow as we walked in, but I was too tired to care, leaning on Derek heavily and almost drifting off again in the elevator.

By the time we actually made it in the door, I was about really to pass out. "You take the bed tonight, okay?" I barely heard him, my head so tantalizingly close to the pillow. I had enough energy to kick off my shoes and crawl under the comforter, curling in on myself and falling asleep almost instantly.

[MORNING]

It took me a few seconds to process where I was, and it startled me greatly when it finally dawned on me what exactly had transpired to get me into this extremely awkward situation. Sliding out of the bed, I smoothed out the blanket and tried my best not to stumble in my half-wakened state down the hall and into the living room.

"You hungry?" Mor-Derek's voice called out from my left. But… when did we get on a first-name basis? Not that I really minded at this point.

"Ye-yeah," My voice was rough with sleep and still a bit raw from the night before. The smell of coffee and bacon reached me and I perked up immediately. Coffee made everything better when sugar was added. Bacon? Yes, that added to it. I peeked into the kitchen, then decided leaning in the doorway was a bit more dignified.

"How ya feeling? I made sure I had extra sugar for your coffee, and bacon and eggs are pretty much the only breakfast food I've mastered, so…" Derek trailed off with a small smile and a shrug, going back to poking the bacon around the pan. It smelled like it was almost done, but I was never really one for cooking, so I couldn't really be sure.

"A little tired," I started, not knowing if I really wanted to talk about it right then. Well, what was there really to talk about? A lot, I realized; a hell of a lot. I had broken down and Morgan hadn't freaked out. Quite the opposite, really. Kissing my forehead was… what did that even mean? Did he actually…? Oh god… If he liked me, then…? I had never really thought about it before. Me? In a relationship? A strange little brain tickler, even to me. But _me_ in a _relationship_ with _Derek_? Unheard of. Right? To keep my brain from overloading, I decided a change of subject was in order. "It smells great!"

Derek laughed quietly as he plated the food and set it on the dining room table. "Thanks, let's hope it tastes as good, yeah?" Nodding, I sat down and almost inhaled the eggs, not being able to remember the last time I had eaten a home-cooked breakfast that didn't consist of burnt toast and cereal. "Whoa, there. We don't have to be at work for another hour and a half. Chill." I paused and checked the clock. Six thirty. Funny, it felt like so much later.

After Derek had finished eating, he started cleaning the table, telling me not to get up. I protested, wanting to help, but he just ruffled my hair with a smile, so I stayed put. Now didn't seem like the best time to talk about last night...

A little while later, we pulled up in front of my building and I ran inside to change into some clean clothes and make myself look presentable. The ride to work was awkwardly silent. Well, we were stuck in traffic together, so may as well bring it up now.

"I'm… sorry about last night. I don't know what came over me, and I apologize," My voice seemed strong, but my hands were shaking the littlest bit and I hoped Derek wouldn't notice.

"I told you not to worry about it, didn't I?" He glanced over just long enough to see me nod and look back down at my lap. I couldn't help but worry, and after knowing him this long, he knew it, too. That's all we said to each other the rest of the drive.

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I've started the next chapter, so hopefully it and the other two I'm writing will be up soonish. :D


	3. Female Intuition?

Hey, guys! Sorry this chapter is so short D: The next one will be longer and more exciting! I'm writing it right now :3 Thank you to my AWESOME friends for helping me out with the details of this story and thank you, RJ, for being the greatest beta a writer could ask for~ ON WITH CHAPTER 3~

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It was one of those 'unending paperwork' days we had between cases. Sure, I could read twenty thousand words a minute, but when it was _this_ boring? Yeah, right. My mind drifted from topic to topic, mainly ones that pertained to last night. I asked myself the same questions I had this morning, and it didn't get me anywhere. The sound of a phone ringing reached my ears faintly, but I dismissed it. When wasn't a phone ringing in this pla-

"Hey, Garcia wants to see us," Derek's hand was on my shoulder, making me jump.

"Why?"

"Don't know, just said she wanted us to get to her right now," He jerked his head in Garcia's general direction. I stood and followed, reasons she could possibly want both of us there at the same time racing around in circles in my brain. The team had made a promise never to profile each other, and that included Penelope, so the meaning was completely lost to me.

"Welcome, boys, to my humble cavern," Penelope gave us a bright grin, spinning in her chair to face our direction. "You must be wondering why I called you here, hm?" I nodded and Derek crossed his arms, grinning back.

"Babycakes, do you even need a reason?"

"Not really, but I have one this time!" Winking at us, she swiveled back to her computers, typing in a couple things that I couldn't see. A few pictures popped up on the screen. I blinked a few times, then glanced over at Derek, whose eyebrows had shot up. "Which one?"

Derek pointed to one of them. "That one." Penelope looked a little disappointed.

"Oh... okay," She sighed and closed them down. I stood there, not exactly sure what to do. I hadn't been asked anything, so I figured I could leave or something.

"Is that it?" I didn't want to sound rude, but it seemed like the only way to excuse myself. Penelope nodded.

"Yep, that's it!"

"Okay," I returned the nod and started to leave the room.

"Hey, Spencer, I'll meet you out there is a sec, okay?" Morgan called after me. I looked back and we made eye contact. I smiled, then turned and left to go back to my desk.

* * *

Penelope turned to Derek and raised eyebrows. "Don't think I didn't hear that, sugar." Derek quirked an eyebrow in her direction.

"What?"

"You called him by his first name. You've never done that before," Penelope had a small smile on her face. "Is there something you're not telling me? No, no. There _is_ something you're not telling me. Spill."

"It's not what you think it is," Derek stayed calm. He had to. At least, he tried keeping his cool, but this sort of information was obviously extremely sensitive and if it got out... all hell would break loose.

"There's something going on between you and my junior g-man," She grinned, knowing for a fact she got it right.

"It's not- There's noth- Damn it," Derek sighed in defeat. "I guess it _is_ what you think it is." Penelope giggled.

"Your secret is safe with me. My lips are sealed," She made a zipping motion in front of her mouth.

* * *

From the look Rossi gave me when I looked up, I figured my pen tapping was getting on his nerves. I dropped the pen next to the stack of paperwork, then leaned back and stretched. Suddenly, JJ was at my desk.

"Hey, Spence, we have a case," She walked off to tell the others. Ah, the bittersweet feeling of getting out of paperwork.


	4. First Verse

"Our unsub's territory is in Yuma this time," JJ started, passing out pictures and case files. "The unsub makes a clean cut across the throat, and then writes a line of what seems to be poetry on the chest of the victim in the victim's blood mixed with blue ink."

"From the looks of the handwriting, the unsub is most likely female. The letters are more loopy than males'," I gestured to the shape of the letters, "but the gender of the writer can only really be determined with two thirds accuracy. Graphologists theorize that personality overrides the influence of gender and so they cannot pinpoint the gender with precision."

"If you'll look down at the pictures, you can see that the lines of poetry are not random, but part of a larger piece. If we can figure out how long this poem is, then we'll know the number of people she will kill... if she decides to end at all." JJ paused. "She duct tapes the victim's mouth closed, which is why no one heard them scream. As for time of death, it is difficult to determine. The unsub left a portable air conditioner in the room and put aluminum foil over the windows, behind the curtains."

"The temperature of a dead body goes down by one and a half degrees Fehernheit an hour until it reaches the surrounding temperature, but, of course, that can only be an estimate. The skin takes about eight to twelve hours to cool, while the center of the body takes about three times longer. To get an accurate time of death, we would have to take the center body and air temperature right when we get there, and then again right before the body is moved to determine the rate of cooling."

"Thank you, Spence," JJ sighed. "Now, the pictures..." Taking a couple seconds break, she waited for everyone to shuffle their pictures in the correct order before continuing. "It seems to be talking to an older male figure, judging by the first line.

_Father, I killed a man_  
_It was hard to let him go_  
_But I know others needed him more than I did_  
_So I placed his heart for show"_

"'Father' could be referring to a priest, God, or literally a father," Derek mused from behind me. "It might be written as a confessional, but the unsub explains her reasons for it, like she was justified. The wording itself also suggests the unsub is a female."

"I think that's enough to go on for now," Hotch broke in. "We can tell more when we get to the scene." Standing, he headed out the door, only to come back in for a brief second to inform is that the plane was leaving in two hours.

The seven and a half hour flight was excruciatingly boring after three cups of coffee. By the time we made it to the crime scene, though, the caffeine had almost worn off and I had to stop to get more. Hotch seemed a bit annoyed, but didn't say anything.

Logically I knew that Yuma was going to be much warmer than Quantico, but the difference was still a bit surprising. Mid-sixties compared to lower thirties? It was a welcome contrast.

A neighbor with a dog stood with an officer when we got out of the SUVs. Hotch led the way over to them and I made sure I kept on the opposite side of the group from the tiny canine.

"Mrs. Keethland-"

"Call me Amy," The middle-aged woman interrupted with a teary smile.

"Amy, my name is Agent Hotchner and this is Dr. Reid, Agent Prentiss, Agent Morgan, Agent Jareau, and Agent Rossi," Hotch gestured to each of us in turn. "Dr. Reid will be taking your statement." The rest of the team left, Derek legging behind a second.

"Good luck," he winked and headed off. I stared after him a second, then turned back to Amy.

"So, what time did you find the body?" I took out my notebook, waiting somewhat patiently for an answer. She looked to be on the verge of tears. I tried my best to remain professional, but crying women with dogs made me ill at ease. The dog's eyes narrowed before it let out a sharp yap and started growling.

"Oh, shush, Felipe. I'm sorry, he's not usually like this. He generally loves people!" Amy gushed, tapping her dog on the nose lightly. I stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before Derek came back to my rescue.

"Dogs don't really like him, nor do children. We call it the 'Reid Effect'," He smirked, and the woman smiled, her dog calming a bit to intermittent snarls in my direction. "So, Amy, did you tell Dr. Reid what time you found the body? I'll take over from here." Nodding gratefully, I strode quickly into the house.

I knew I should have been listening to Hotch and Rossi discuss the time of death and other details pertaining to profiling the unsub, but distraction after distraction came up and then...

I was at dinner.

"...-gree that the time of death was around seven yesterday evening?" I nodded along with everyone else, stabbing a small chunk of orange chicken with my fork. Chopsticks? Too impractical. Looking down at my plate, I realized that all I had left was some sauce and three little carrots. Bringing out my wallet, I put my share of the bill on the table and stood. It was late, I was tired, and no matter how uncomfortable hotel couches were, I was going to force myself to have a good night's sleep.

"I'm going to turn in for the night. See you in the morning," I gave them an awkward smile in return for their raised eyebrows and odd looks. Everyone wished me good night, though, after a few moments, so I turned on my heel and left, noticing Derek get up to follow. It shouldn't have been anything to really think about, though, seeing as we only had so many cars. No one let me drive, anyways.

"Hey," Out in the parking lot, Derek caught my arm before I got in the black SUV. "How ya feelin'?" His hand lingered a couple seconds longer than necessary before he released his hold. I wished he hadn't let go. "You were pretty quiet at dinner... Is something up?"

"I'm just tired, that's all," I smiled, hating that I was lying to him. A while ago I had read what was already common sense: wallowing in misery isn't healthy. But I just... I couldn't break down on him again, especially in the middle of a case. That would be stupid, selfish, and it wouldn't get anyone anywhere. Not to mention how unprofessional it was.

The ride back to the hotel was short and silent. Nothing was even mumbled until we got safely into the hotel room. I grabbed the blanket and pillow from inside the closet and started over to the couch, readying myself for the inevitable soreness that was going to permeate my entire being the next morning. Just before I sat down, Derek spoke up.

"Spencer," Derek jerked his head in the direction of the bed. "Take it." I shook my head with a small frown.

"I couldn't! You already gave me your bed a couple nights ago. That wouldn't be fair," I proceeded to sit on the couch until he grabbed my arm in a firm but gentle hold and pulled me back up to my feet, guiding me to the bed with a hand on the small of my back. Throwing back the covers, he pointed to it sternly.

"Life isn't fair, pretty boy," He leaned forward and placed a small kiss to my forehead before heading to the light switch and flipping the lights off. I clambered into the bed, heart rate starting to speed up until one of the lamps in the room was turned on. "G'night." I heard him mumble from across the room.

"Good night, Derek."

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GAAAH! Sorry for the super long wait, guys! I got stuck and stuff, but it's all done now. I'm sorry nothing exciting's really happened D: I promise it will pick up soon ;-; BTW: This is unbeta'd, so if you spot any blaring errors, please point them out and I'll fix em up. I went over it a couple times, but I totally could have missed something.


	5. AN: SORRYSORRY Not discontinuing

I am so sorry for lack of updates, guys! I have con this coming weekend and probably won't be able to post a chapter until at the very least next Monday.

Sorrysorry! D:

**MIGHT** have time tomorrow, but no promises.

Please forgive me ;-;


	6. Let Me Know I'm Dreaming

**SORRY FOR THE YEAR-LONG WAIT GUYS! This is unbeta'd and been sitting in my google docs folder for faaaar too long. I apologize for it being so short! I'll try to make chapter six longer! Again, many apologies! I hope to get this back on track. Thanks for staying with this, those of you who have!**

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_It was the knock on the door that made me look up from my take-out. Dropping my fork into the little carton of fried rice, I waited for the next knock__to get up and go__ to the door. I paused, hand hovering over the lock. Taking a deep breath, I unlocked the door and opened it, wondering why I was so nervous. I had no reason to be, right?_

_"G-Gideon?" _

_"May I come in?" He waited until I nodded and stepped aside to enter. He looked around my apartment and immediately went and dropped himself onto the couch with a sigh. "I felt it would be best if I came and told you this __myself__." _

_"Tell me what? What's going on?" I started to panic, even though there was some small chance he __would__ be coming back. Deep down, though, I knew it wasn't going to be that. We weren't supposed to profile other members of the team, but__he wasn't on the team anymore, __so __it __would be__ okay, right? No, it __wouldn't be__... but the way he was holding himself..._

_"We can't contact each other anymore, Spencer," Gideon made sure __we had eye contact,__ and I think that almost scared me as much as what he said. He was serious. Before I could even think to make a reply, he was out the door, walking down the hall. I ran out after him, watching him leave, and not once did he look back. _

_"Wh-why?" _

I didn't realize it was a dream until I was half way to the door of the hotel room, nor did I notice I was about to pass out from hyperventilating. Stopping myself before I got too far from the bed, I tried to calm my breathing, partially so I wouldn't wake Derek up. Which was pretty irrational as I thought about it; my breathing wasn't all that loud to begin with.

Why would I dream about Gideon coming back? It was wishful thinking, yes, but coming back to tell me we could never see each other again? That was a little... My subconscious was just being cruel.

I ended up wandering around the room aimlessly, eventually coming to a stop in front of the couch. Now was a good time to go back to sleep, right? Sitting down, I crossed my arms on the cushion near Derek's head and rested my own on them, falling into a sleep that I knew was going to make me sore in the morning.

I underestimated just exactly how sore I was going to be by a long shot. Not just how far an arrow can fly. I mean the distance from Earth to the hypothetical Oort cloud long.

"Hey, kid, wake up," I started as Derek ruffled my hair. "Trouble sleeping?"  
"Uh, oh... yeah. I had this weird dream and- nevermind, it's not important. We should go meet the team in the lobby." Thankfully, Derek only raised an eyebrow and let it go. I hoped that he would just forget about the little slip, but that was highly unlikely. He was a bit too observant to let that happen. "But thanks for worrying."

"Anytime," I didn't have to look at him to know it he was smiling. I kind of did, too, just to myself as I went to the bathroom to change. After a few minutes, I emerged only to find Derek pulling on a pair of pants. In my research, I have found that a majority of people put on their pants first. He was... no exception. I paused for a split second in my shock and then promptly smacked my face into the bathroom door as I tried to flee back into the room.

"I'm sorry!" Oh god, that was... Did I just really...? Berating myself, I pressed my fingers to my forehead. I heard him chuckle just on the other side of the closed door. He knocked.

"C'mon, they're waiting for us," I heard the smirk and was sorely tempted to hit my head against the wall. "I'm clothed, promise." Relieved, I regained some amount of composure and exited, not daring to make eye contact until we made it the the elevator.

"No way am I going in one of those with you again," I grumbled, shooting a nonthreatening glare at Derek. "Where are the stairs?" I made a move to leave but felt his hand on my arm, pulling me back as the doors opened. His hand relocated to the small of my back as he guided me into the small box.


End file.
